Last Stand
by LadyLindariel
Summary: COMPLETE The earth shall tremble beneath the might of the Balrogs, with Glorfindel and Ecthelion struggling to escape from Gondolin with survivors. Fires shall burn and tears will be shed, as a desperate fight for their lives hangs on the blades of two courageous Elves... A re-write of Ecthelion and Glorfindel's Last Stand
1. Chapter 1

**A/N** This is a re-write of my story Ecthelion and Glorfindel's Last Stand. I was unhappy with my first copy, and so I rewrote it. I hope you enjoy this one. Thank-you horseyyay for having confidence in me when I didn't. Also thank-you to helenamarkos for the new title.

As I did not want to rewrite what Tolkien had completely, I wrote it from my perspective so that may mean that the way some of the events took place in my story may not entirely line up with how it initially happened in the book.

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It was the day before Tarnin Austa, and the sun had set behind the hills. The people of Gondolin were standing on the eastern wall waiting eagerly for dawn to arrive for it was custom to hold a silent vigil from midnight until dawn, and then the whole of Gondolin would break out in music to welcome the new season of Summer. But while the night was still upon them, the elves of the Hidden Valley saw in the horizon a light they had never seen before. It was just a glow off in the north, and the people wondered at what it could be. Slowly it grew, and the people began to doubt as it became redder, this was no ordinary light, and their fears were confirmed as several scouts who kept watch over the peaks came riding in exclaiming the enemies of Morgoth found them.

As soon as they heard the news, the streets of Gondolin erupted into chaos as it filled with the screams and cries of several women and children. Some of the women and children hid while others tried to find some means of escape for they knew if Morgoth had discovered them, then it would only be a matter of time before they broke through and either killed them or captured them to use for their pleasure.

While the ellith were busy leading their offspring away, the ellyn were busy scrambling to take up arms. Even as they were grabbing their weapons and the Captains of each House were busy yelling out commands they could feel the ground beginning to shake under them and hear the unmistakable sound of their enemies' war cry. Time was of the essence, and they were quickly running out of it.

When all the Houses were in their positions – some were at the front ready to fend off the enemies' while others were arrayed elsewhere – they heard the bashing of a battering ram against the stone walls as the others tried to breach the gates. Several of Turgon's archers lined the upper walls and began to fire torrents of arrows at the enemy below, but they just kept advancing. However, soon the North Gate had been broken through, and soon the streets were filled with the onslaught of orcs.

Several of the Houses of Gondolin tried in vain to hold off the enemy but it was no use, they were too few, and the enemy soon broke through their defenses. Everywhere women, children and even men were being cut down as if they were flies. For every orc or other fell beast killed it seemed as if though fifty Gondolindrim were killed. The elves tried to keep as many of Morgoth's army at bay so as to seek to give the unarmed citizens time to evacuate but soon it was impossible to do so, and they had to fall back themselves.

Meanwhile, at the western walls, the Lord of the Fountain – the mighty Ecthelion – and Tuor were trying desperately to keep their mind on the battle at hand. For it was here that Morgoth's dragons had broken through, but they had refused to back down. Ecthelion had no idea how long he and his troops had been fighting, trying in vain to keep the forces of Morgoth at bay. All around him chaos, mayhem, death and destruction were around. Elves were fleeing the once hidden city of Gondolin as the forces of Morgoth relentlessly attacked. Homes, trees, and buildings burned and all around him bodies of both elves, orcs and other fell creatures alike lay dead. If Ecthelion lived through this, he knew the scene around him would forever be etched in his memory.

Ecthelion knew he needed to get his troops out for this was a battle he could not hope to win, at least not here. "Fall back! We must retreat and regroup ourselves!" Ecthelion yelled as he threw down another orc. His House upon hearing their captain giving the order to retreat began to flee cutting down orcs, wolves and other fell creatures along the way. Ecthelion himself had already cut down two Balrogs – powerful fire demons who had once been fair Maiar but were seduced by Morgoth.

Almost home free, Ecthelion continued slashing his way through. Every so often he would find a lone elf hiding in terror and help them to escape, but in doing so, he could feel himself lose stamina. He didn't know how much longer he could continue at this grueling pace; he had to get to the Fountain of the King, for the water that ran in there could replenish the strength of anyone who drank from it.

But before he was able to reach the passageway which would lead him to it another Balrog reared its ugly head and began to assault him. Both elf and beast fought, steel upon steel, fury against fury. Every passing second Ecthelion was becoming weaker, but he refused to go down. How he managed to find the strength to continue he knew not, but continue he did. Eventually, he was able to defeat the mighty Balrog with a quick blow with his sword, but in doing so, he too had received a mighty wound to his left arm by its fiery whip.

Ecthelion bit back a cry as he felt the hot whip slice open his arm. Wrapping his arm, he rose to his feet and continued to fight, knowing deep down he would probably not live to see another day, but that no longer mattered anymore, the only thing which mattered was to make sure that as many elves escaped as possible, even if it cost him his life. On he kept fighting trying desperately to reach the Square of the King, but the creatures just kept coming, like an endless sea. Just as he got done defeating several orcs, a new wave began to assail him. Ecthelion knew he would not be able to hold out. The rest of his House were busy fighting their battle, and so they were unable to reach him. He was just about to admit defeat when he heard a war cry heading his way: it was Tuor!

With fire in his eyes that would scare even the mightiest of Morgoth's servants, Tuor began to single-handedly strike down adversaries sending most of them fleeing in a hasty retreat. When he got to Ecthelion, he found he was severely weakened and injured. "My friend, are you able to stand? We must retreat now, Gondolin is lost. The vast majority are dead; the rest are fleeing with Idril to the secret tunnel," Tuor said bending down and helping his friend up supporting him.

"Aye, I can stand, but I cannot fight anymore, I am too weak. Perhaps if I can get to the Fountain, and drink of its waters, I can regain most of my strength."

Tuor nodded and helped Ecthelion make his way to the Fountain while motioning for the rest of Ecthelion's men to follow, for there the remaining leaders were waiting.

When they arrived, they were greeted by the surviving leaders and Tuor, and Glorfindel helped their injured comrade to the Fountain's edge. Ecthelion proceeded to drink from the Fountain feeling the cold, refreshing water slide down his parched throat and flow through his veins. Strengthening him almost instantly, allowing him to fight once again.

After resting for a few minutes, Tuor, Glorfindel, and the remaining leaders were discussing what they should now do for most of them knew Gondolin was now lost forever, and by remaining here, they were just fighting a losing battle. Some of them, however, were not ready to admit defeat and thought it was worth staying to try and take back their kingdom. As they were busy arguing they were interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps and the thunderous flapping of dragons. They knew they had run out of time and had to make a decision. They now had only two choices: they either stayed and fought – which would lead them to their deaths – or they fled with the rest of the survivors and made their way towards Idril's secret tunnel and then make their way out of Gondolin.

As the encroaching enemies made their way closer, Ecthelion turned and gave the order for them to retreat. As they began to retreat, they noticed Ecthelion was not following. "Ecthelion, let us leave, it is folly to remain!" Tuor exclaimed when he saw his friend was not following.

Ecthelion waved his hands and told him to flee that it was pointless for all of them to die. Tuor was getting ready to protest but was caught off guard by the terrible roar and the thrashing of a whip. As Ecthelion turned around, he was met with the terrifying presence of the most feared Balrog of all: Gothmog.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N** Thank you to quarterhouseranch, Eryntar, Eldhoron and Jesus' girl 4ever for reviewing. I appreciate it.

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Ecthelion's face turned ashen as he saw Gothmog burst through the gates bringing with him several dragons, wolves, and orcs to finish taking down the rest of the inhabitants of Gondolin. They were given orders to allow none to survive and they were going to do just that and immediately began their attack on the defenders of Gondolin.

As the remainder of the warriors who were led by both Glorfindel and Ecthelion began to duel, they gave strict orders to Tuor to get Idril and his son and to lead the remainder of Gondolin out to safety. Tuor started to protest, but Ecthelion's expression clearly left no room for arguing, so he fled the Square leaving the others to attempt to hold back the enemy to find his family. As he ran with all haste to find his wife and son he prayed the others would fare well and that they would be reunited in the end.

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Gothmog gave the orders to the other foul beasts to engage with the others, but they were to leave Ecthelion to him. Immediately after they had been given the orders to attack they began their brutal assault on Glorfindel and the other ellyn while Gothmog started his advance against Ecthelion.

Ecthelion locked his eyes on his target. There was no going back now, and as much as he wanted to help his friends, he knew that was impossible as long as Gothmog was alive. Gothmog made the first move and swung his sword down hard on top of Ecthelion's causing him almost to stumble backward. He barely had time to catch himself before being assailed again. Instantly he brought his blade up and countered the next strike against him. On and on it went like this. Ecthelion had no sense of time, all he knew was this was now a battle of the fittest. He was looking death in the face with every parry and blow of his sword against his. He was not even aware of the others who were locked in a death dance of their own.

Ecthelion dodged Gothmog's mighty whip several times, each one causing him to begin feeling the fatigue creeping back into him. He knew he would not be able to keep up this stance for much longer; he had to do something and something real fast. Just then Gothmog took his whip and snatched Orcrist clean out of his hand. Ecthelion knew he was finished. Without a weapon, there was no way he could win this fight, and he was too far away to retrieve his sword. He could have sworn he heard Gothmog laugh and as he looked back up at his foe he made his last move, a move he knew would end his life but in the process hoped would also terminate the life of his adversary. As Gothmog was getting ready to deal the death blow, Ecthelion leaped up and drove the spike of his helmet clean into his chest. Gothmog screeched in pain, and as he fell to his death in the Fountain of the King, he took Ecthelion with him where he too met his fate.

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Glorfindel was busy engaging in a duel with a giant wolf when he heard Ecthelion scream out a curse to Gothmog. Distracted he turned just as he saw his best friend impale himself into the mighty Balrog's chest. Everything at that point seemed to move in slow motion as he saw the Balrog fall with Ecthelion still impaled in his chest crashing into the fountain with the mighty captain underneath him. Glorfindel could not believe what he just witnessed: the death of his best friend.

He had no time even to react as he suddenly felt the sharp searing pain of fangs embed themselves deep into his forearm. Screaming in pain, he pried the jaw open and had removed his arm from the canine's mouth. Letting out a curse, he turned, and as the wolf lunged at him once more, Glorfindel drove his sword deep into his gut. After he made sure it was dead he removed his weapon from its stomach and proceeded to slow the bleeding to his arm. The golden haired ellon was about to head over to the fountain to see if there was even the slightest chance his friend could still be alive when another leader, Egalmoth stormed in with a bunch of survivors and told him to leave and make for the secret tunnel. Glorfindel acknowledged and remorsefully motioned for the terrified elves to follow him.

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Glorfindel hurriedly led them down many passageways dodging falling buildings, trying to make their way through the dense smoke which encased them. Every so often he would run into orcs, and he would have to stop and fight them being careful that none of the other elves would be hurt or killed in the process. It was very tiring, and he was beginning to wonder if they would ever get to their destination. After several twists and turns, they were finally getting closer to the tunnel when he happened to come across a group of terrified elves huddled together in a corner.

Stopping, Glorfindel gestured for them to follow him and the others quickly, as he could hear the sounds of approaching footsteps of many orcs who had started following the fleeing elves. The frightened inhabitants came out of their hiding place, and they began to resume their flight to safety and were coming to the secret way that would hopefully lead them to safety. Glorfindel, however, had no idea about the battle he was soon going to be faced with which would determine the outcome of all present.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N** Thank you to quarterhouseranch, TerribleSplendour, Eldhoron and Jesus' girl 4ever for reviewing. I appreciate it.

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The once happy, bustling streets and passageways were now completely void of any life as Glorfindel hurriedly led the remaining survivors who had not managed to escape with Idril. They were now quickly approaching the dark passageway which would lead them to the secret tunnel and hopefully safety. Luckily, they had not run into any other foes, and the damage and smoke in this remote area were not nearly as thick as it was only mere moments ago. "We are almost there, just hold out for a few minutes more!" Glorfindel said calmly trying to reassure the remaining survivors as they quickly rounded a corner that led to the tunnel entrance.

Eventually, Glorfindel met up with Idril, Tuor, their son Eärendil and the last vestige of the once mighty kingdom of Gondolin. Glorfindel bravely held the rear while the others made their way as fast as they could muster out of Gondolin. They may have escaped the most dangerous part of the attack, but Glorfindel knew full well they were not out of danger yet, and if he didn't hold the rear, then they would be open and vulnerable to any attack which might appear.

After a long trek through the dark tunnel, they emerged out into the open, and the evacuees found themselves now entering Cirith Thoronath, an extremely treacherous pass, only accessible by walking along a narrow ledge. On the west side was a deep abyss and on the east side was a steep overhang and if one were not careful they would fall and find themselves meeting an untimely death. It was here the surviving Gondolindrim were ambushed out of nowhere, for behind Glorfindel appeared another Balrog while in front of Idril a large troop of orcs decided to attempt to overthrow them.

Fear began to seep through the elves as they realized they were completely trapped with nowhere to go. The orcs grinned maliciously as they saw their prey was surrounded, and as if toying with them, they slowly began to advance on them, while behind them the fire demon was closing in. Just as they thought all was lost, Thorondor, the King of the Eagles swooshed down with his Eagles and began to drive off the orcs, many of them falling to their deaths in the abyss below. As the Eagles were busy attacking the orcs, Glorfindel seized this chance and faced the Balrog head on allowing Idril and the others to make their escape.

Glorfindel bravely fought the Balrog, successfully evading the fiery beast's attacks. It was almost like a dance, one would lead, and the other would follow. Glorfindel would lunge, and his foe would parry and vice versa. It went on like this for what appeared to be hours when during one attack the Balrog fumbled, and Glorfindel snatched this opportunity to stab the Balrog in his bowels.

The beast let out a terrifying scream of pain and fell over the edge of the abyss. Glorfindel sighed in relief when he saw it fall and turned to catch up with the others. In one final act of defiance, the Balrog flicked his whip as Glorfindel turned to leave grabbing his golden hair, and pulling him down over the edge of the precipice. Glorfindel had no time to react; he didn't even have a chance to curse himself for his stupidity at turning his back on his enemy before making sure it was dead.

As he fell, darkness swept all around him. So, this was how he would meet his end. Falling into nothingness, crashing into a rocky pile of jagged rocks where his body would break on impact. More than likely he would be left there to rot with no one to even give him a proper burial. Would he even be remembered? Would anyone even come back to look for his remains? All these questions ran through his mind as he fell along with glimpses of his past and mistakes that plagued his mind.

If only he had never joined in the rebellion and left the safety of Valinor. No, he knew his death had saved innocent lives, even if they were few. He was aware that right now Tuor, Idril and their young son Eärendil were now safe and because of that their son would hopefully be able to fulfill his destiny which would help rid Middle Earth of Morgoth. For that peace of mind, his death was worth it. He only hoped when his fëa entered Mandos' Halls; he could find peace and healing and then possibly he would be able to ask for forgiveness. He smiled at the thought, and before his body made impact with the rocks below, he cried out. "Eru, forgive me." Then everything went black. Glorfindel, the Lord of the Golden Flower, the last defender of Gondolin, was dead.

 _Epilogue_

Far above the rocky bottom from where the fallen elf lord was lying – his broken body sprawled and lifeless – Thorondor watched the whole battle take place. The great Eagle swore to himself in anger for not being able to get to Glorfindel in time to aid him. If only he had, Glorfindel would not have fallen to his death. No matter, Thorondor might not have been able to save him from his death, but he would not just leave his body to decay and share a rocky grave with the one who had led him to his demise.

With his mind made up, Thorondor swooped down and with one graceful swipe of his massive talons, picked up the body of the fallen warrior and carried him up out of the dark abyss. As Thorondor soared through the sky, he eventually found what he was looking for: a decent place in the pass to bury him. Thorondor buried the fallen hero with a mound of stones. It was here Glorfindel was laid to rest, and on that mound, grew yellow flowers despite the desolate location. Here the great warrior would fall into song and legend until many hundreds of years later he would be released from Mandos' Halls and return to Middle Earth to aid Eärendil's son, Lord Elrond, and to help rid Middle Earth from another dark lord: The vile servant of Morgoth, Sauron.


End file.
